Chapter 32
AMAYA
For a moment, we all freeze, silently taking in Caesar’s shirtless form.
My mouth goes dry against my will as I run my eyes over his gleaming chest. Just as I thought, the man is made of pure, sharp muscle. There’s literally no ounce of fat anywhere in sight His body looks like it was carved out of stone. His biceps and abs are a bodybuilder’s dream.
Elle lifts a brow at me and sneers;
“He asked a question. What’s going on, Amaya? What do you want?”
I lower my eyes from Caesar’s distracting body, ignoring the weird pressuring feeling in my chest as I step back.
“Um, you know what? Forget it. I’m leaving now.”
In my haste, I stumble beckwards and btimp into Solomon who wraps his arms around my waist to steady me. I look up and our eyes clash and hold. He’s frowning, probably wondering why I’m choosing to leave.
I extricate myself from his grip, murmuring a quick word of thanks. When I look up, Caesar’s fierce gaze burns daggers into my skin. Am I imagining things or does he look… jealous? I dismiss the thought immediately.
Ceasar can never be jealous, not when he has a gorgeous woman like Elle.
No longer able to bear his intense stare, I look up at Solomon and mumble;
“Are you getting off? I’d like to use the elevator.”
Solomon’s frown becomes even more pronounced, but I bluntly refuse to entertain the questions in his eyes. There’s no way I’m begging Caesar to marry me when he wants to get back with Elle. Never. My pride would never recover from such damage.
I’m still silently asking Solomon to get off quickly so I can leave when suddenly, he turns to Caesar and speaks up; “Amaya had something very important to say to you. What were you and this….bitch doing in here alone?”
I freeze. Damn it! Why can’t he just let it go?
My eyes stray to Caesar and I watch as his fingers curl into fists; last I checked, I can stay in my office with whomever I damn well please. Is there a problem?”
Solomon is already gearing up to give a snappy comeback when I whip my head upwards and hold Caesar’s gaze;
“No. There’s no problem. I was just leaving.”
But that’s the problem. Solomon refuses to get out of the way. Bristling with annoyance, he steps out of the elevator, then reaches back in and wraps his strong fingers around my wrist. Before I can utter a word of protest, he pulls me out of the elevator and I stumble forward with a yelp of surprise.
The only person who should be leaving is this witch.” He says, nodding in Elle’s direction with a look of disgust. “And that’s exactly what’s about to happen.”
“Solomon…”
He strides towards Elle with long, purposeful steps. She starts panicking even before he gets to her;
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“What the heck do you think you’re doing?” She asks when he pauses in front of her; “get away from me. Back off!”
“Are you gonna leave by yourself or do I have to shove you in there?” He snarls.
Elle’s blue eyes spark with liquid rage. “How dare you threaten me? You have no right! I’m Caesar’s guest!”
Solomon shrugs; “the only guest of Caesar’s that I recognize in his room is Amaya. You, my darling, are a leech.
Without waiting for her response, he grabs her left wrist and stomps the short distance to the elevator. Elle nearly brings down the building with her screams and curses;
“Caesar, do something! Don’t just stand there and watch him manhandle me. Do something, please!”
Within seconds, Solomon shoves her into the elevator and presses the button that’s supposed to take her to the ground floor, then he proceeds to wipe his hands like he just got rid of filth.
When he turns to us, the anger is gone from his eyes. Well, most of it.
“Both of you need to talk. In fact, we all need to talk. Starting with you, big guy.” He frowns at Caesar. “I can smell that bitch’s horrible perfume all over the place. What were you doing with her?”
Caesar inhafes sharply; “apparently, the receptionists are newly employed so they have no idea that we’re divorced. They gave her the elevator code. I was hella surprised when I saw her
Solomon rolls his eyes; “my man, that does not explain the shortage of clothes on your torso.”
“Elle tried to seduce me.” Caesar deadpans so casually, like he’s talking about the weather instead of a real human being and
a real situation. “When she realized that she wasn’t going to succeed, she accidentally poured ink on her dress and also “accidentally” stumbled into me. We were both covered in ink so we had to take turns using the bathroom. I might have to sue her for assault.”
Solomon nods. “Great. I don’t mind parting with my lawyer if it’s for a good cause.”
All the while, it doesn’t go unnoticed that Caesar is pointedly ignoring me. I turn around to say something, but the words die in my throat when I take in the two men standing side–by–side. Just like that day at Solomon’s office, I’m struck by how utterly gorgeous they both are. The dangerous, masculine energy they exude together is electrifying. Definitely porn material. The hard, fast, sweaty kind of porn.
“I think I really have to go.” I whisper again.
Caesar turns around and walks away without as much as sparing me a glance. Ouch.
He disappears through one of the doors at one end of the office and I have to dig my feet into the ground to stop myself from running after him.
“He won’t talk to me.” I tell Solomon dejectedly. “Don’t you think I should…”
Solomon grabs my arm and leads me to a chair at Caesar’s desk, then he gently pushes me onto the comfy Italian leather.
“Sit there and wait for him. He probably went to
I my he
some clothes on. He’ll be back shortly.”
I nod quickly, grateful for his support, falls when I see him leaving. “Where are you going?”
“To the gaming room.” He says over his shoulder. “Caesar just bought the latest version of the Ps5 and I need to utilize my best friend privileges. You both need some privacy anyways.”
After he leaves, I barely have the time to pull myself together when Caesar suddenly walks out of the adjoining room. He’s back to looking like a member of New York City’s top billionaires in his well tailored suit and crisp gray shirt. His hair isn’t in a ponytail today. It flows to his shoulders and hangs over his eyes, making him appear impossibly gorgeous.
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I expect him to ignore me. However, to my surprise, he leans on the table in front of me and pins me in place with those dark eyes.
“Aren’t you going to do it?”
I frown. “Do what?”
“Apologize to me.” He growls, looking frustrated. “I kept waiting to speak to you at the hospital yesterday but you ignored me on purpose. I drove you there for goodness sake. The least you could do was speak to me and assure me that you were okay.”
I blink in surprise. Judging from the tightening of Caesar’s jaw, it’s clear that he said that last part by mistake.
I want to apologize to him. In fact, the words are already on the tip of my tongue, but the stubborn part of me that refuses to do anything he wants clamps up and forces me to lift my chin instead;
“I never asked you to do anything for me, Caesar. I never asked you to take me to the hospital. I never asked you to wait for me. Don’t expect me to kiss your ass.”
I see the flicker of hurt in his eyes before he quickly blinks it away. My veins twist with guilt. Ten seconds later, Caesar gets off his perch on the table and goes to sit behind the desk, his gait, stiff.
“If you feel you cannot showcase basic human decency by apologizing to me, then you have to leave.” He grounds out, angrily flipping through a folder in front of him.
I swallow nervously, instantly regretting my words. “Caesar, I…”
“If that’s not an apology, then don’t bother wasting your time. Just leave.”
I fumble with the straps of my bag and shift to the edge of my seat. Then I take a deep breath and whisper;
“I’m sorry, okay? For last night, and for the way I just spoke to you.” The words literally burn my throat, but I mean them. Kinda.
“And um… thank you for taking me to the hospital yesterday. I really appreciate it.”
He drops the folder instantly, leans back in his seat and nods.
“I accept your apology. Why are you here?”
The cold gleam in his eyes makes me doubt if he’s really accepted the apology.
“I’m here to make a deal with you.”
Intrigued, Caesar comes closer. “You’ve got my undivided attention.”
That sentence sends thrills up my spine for reasons I don’t even know.
I clear my throat and look down at my fingers. This is it.
“I’m ready, Caesar. Let’s get married.”
My statement inet with stone cold silence. For the next fifteen seconds, Caesar says absolutely nothing. Another ten seconds later, the silence becomes so profound, I almost start squirming in my seat.
“Look at me, Amaya.” He says in a low, authoritative tone that commands immediate obedience.
I look up and hold his gaze.
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“Repeat yourself. But look nie in the eye this time.”
1 oblige. “Let’s get married, Caesar. I’m ready.”
3
He leans back in his seat with an air of superiority that’s both sexy and annoying at the same time. “Why do you suddenly want to marry me? I thought you hated my guts.”
I lift my chin. “I still hate your guts.”
“Oh, really?”
“But we can make this marriage work. Atleast for the two years that we’ll be together,”
Caesar gets to his feet and strolls to a corner of his luxurious office that’s covered in shiny, paneled wood. I’m momentarily confused when he just stands there, staring at the wall. Seconds later, he reaches for a remote on a tiny table beside him and presses the single red button.
I watch in awe as the wall parts, revealing an elaborate wet bar. Wine and whiskey bottles neatly line the floor–to–ceiling shelves. Judging from the quality of the bottles alone, it’s obvious that every single one of those drinks costs a fortune.
Completely mesmerized, I watch as Caesar presses another button and a part of the shelf rolls forward with his drink of choice. He picks up the bottle of Cognac and pours himself a glass.
He takes his precious time savoring the drink. When he’s done, he presses the single button on the remote once again and everything noiselessly disappears.
That’s about the coolest thing I’ve ever seen, if I’m being honest.
“Why do you suddenly want us to get married?” Caesar asks, turning to me. “You were vehemently against the idea just yesterday. What changed your mind? And I need the truth, Firefly.”
That name again.
Fine, here goes; “my son was diagnosed with anemia yesterday.” It hurts to say it but it needs to be said.
Something shifts in Caesar’s eyes, but I press on;
“According to the doctor, his system does not have what it takes to fight the disease right now and we have to consider another alternative.”
“What other alternative?” Caesar asks quietly.
“Blood transfusion. My son needs blood from the Fire Dragon Pack to guarantee his healing.”
“And how exactly does that concern me?”
The cold, uncaring note of his voice pierces my heart like a dagger.
“Well, you see… a pint of FireDragon blood costs five hundred thousand dollars. I cannot afford that at the moment. I was h- hoping we’d get married and in exchange, you’d assist in paying for the transfusion. But only for the meantime.” I rush to add. “I’ll pay back every single penny once I’m able to work. I promise.”
My cheeks redden with embarrassment. The one thing my parents made sure to instill in me was pride. I detest begging with a passion. And now, I’ve been subjected to begging my own enemy because of my child.
After a minute of heavy, choking silence, Caesar speaks up;
“And how would you feel if I told you that I’ve already found another red–haired woman to sign my marriage contract?”
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Panic shoots through my bloodstream as my eyes clash with his
“What? R–really?”
His lips twist in a smirk. “Did you honestly think I’d wait for you forever? Did you really think I didn’t have options?”
I slowly get to my feet, unsure of what to say; “Caesar, 1…”
He lifts one slender finger, effectively cutting me off;
“Fortunately for you, I haven’t met this woman yet. But my question remains; how much are you willing to sacrifice to get help for your child, Firefly?”
“S–sacrifice?” I stutter mindlessly, my heart pounding with a mixture of fear and confusion.
“Yes, sacrifice. The terms of our agreement have changed. You refused me when I chose to play nice. Unfortunately, I’m no longer interested in playing nice.”
“What do you mean, Caesar?”
He downs the remaining drink in his glass and a little robot thingy rolls out from the corner to accept the dirty glass. There must be a kitchen somewhere around.
“It’s very simple. If you want me to accept your proposal, you have to show me just how much you want it.”
“How do I do that?” I hate that my voice is quivering. I hate that my hands are shaking.
I hate that this man can make me feel scared and weak–in–the knees at the same time.
I’ve never seen Caesar’s eyes this cold. This dark;
“Go on your knees and beg for it…”
